


psychic driving - and other hannibloom drabbles

by Aerielz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tumblr Prompt, those fucked up relationships you can't help to be fascinated by
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerielz/pseuds/Aerielz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four unrelated HanniBloom drabbles written out of Tumblr prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. psychic driving

**Author's Note:**

> _Alana takes care of Hannibal after his fight with Tobias_ , prompted by Anonymous.

Hannibal Lecter was sat on the couch in his office with an expression Alana never saw before. The always stoic face has been filled with an emotion the psychiatrist herself couldn’t name. There was something of grief about it, some strange kind of sadness and even fear, maybe. But it was none of that altogether, or any combination of it that she knew about. Alana caught herself smiling at the though that, if some new emotion was to be invented, Hannibal was certainly the right person to do it. As she approached him cautiously, letting her steps echo in the large room to announce her presence, she focused on his disheveled hair and bleeding lips. That was new, too.

Alana was curious. Something was off.

“How do you even get yourself in this kind of situation?” She asked out loud, playfully.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards. His eyes met hers and his face changed drastically once again. And all she could see was challenge.

“You know very well how psychiatry can be a dangerous profession.”

“I  _know_  it, you seem to have  _experienced_  it a couple of times yourself.” She stated, right hand meeting left to interlock fingers in front of her - a stance used for patients, her office, and the halls of the Baltimore Hospital.

Hannibal allowed himself a wider smile.

“You can ask whatever you want to know directly, Alana.”

She slipped a smile herself, and the softest of sighs.

“Is there something we can clean you up with?”

Hannibal pointed a finger to his table’s first drawer.

“You shouldn't give up suspicion that easily. I taught you better than this.”

“Did you?” She a took a small medical kit from inside of it. When she turned around, Hannibal’s eyes were still locked to her form, searching for her eyes. That expression she knew - that smile, the tone in his voice.

“I did, and changing the subject is a rookie move. You are not a rookie, anymore, Alana.”

For a moment she stood there, gauging his thinking and his emotions and his possible intentions. For that moment there was only silence while he did the same with her. They measured each other's every intention, every move. And both came out empty - yes, he did taught her well. Alana took a step forward, and refused to hesitate when taking the next ones to sit beside him, facing him. Same level, never breaking the twisted staring context that became a tradition between them. 

“Neither I’m your student anymore, Hannibal.”

He nod when she silently asked for a reply.

Satisfied, she took a piece of gauze from the small box on her lap, and reached for the cut on his lips. As she dabbed the blood away for his skin, he reached for her too, taking a rogue strand of hair away from her face.

Alana never noticed that the question that was once so strong on her mind had vanished completely.

“But I will always be your teacher.” He said, caressing her lips quickly, before taking his hands away from her with a full smile that said he knew something she didn’t.

She smiled back, unknowingly allowing his flirtatious change of subject to actually work this time.

(He taught her well. But just a little bit short of enough.)


	2. mine to care for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Alana is in an abusive relationship and Hannibal helps her out of it_ , prompted by Anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~i really should stop being lazy and review these things before i post them because god fucking damnit the typos~~

He hears a knock at the door and shots a glance at the clock. It’s too late for any formal visit. He closes the TattleCrimes.com tab on his tablet and heads for the door, not without noticing his own curiosity - and just a touch of worry.

He smells the tears before he can see them. As the door is open, he is meet with blue eyes filled of them.

“Alana…” She’s standing in front of him almost failing to control the lump in her throat. “ What brings you here?”

She closes her eyes, holds a breath. Two counted seconds go by.

“Honestly, I have no idea.” She withdraws the air in her lungs and open her eyes to look at him.

“We both know that’s no truth.”

 _Always the psychiatrist_ , she thinks. Alana reminds herself that she does the same. That’s why she’s there.

_I’m always the psychiatrist._

“That’s the reason I don’t last in relationships.” She admits, her voice hinting on the subject. “This… _way_ we have of not saying things and saying too much at the same time. It makes people angry.”

Her words are all he needs. The faint purple marks on her arms and neck are suddenly very visible.

“Do you want to come in?” He’s only being gentle - Hannibal had already stepped forward and placed a hand on the small of her back to usher her in by the time the words left his mouth.

“I don’t want to be a problem.”

“You’re never going to be a problem for me, Alana.” He says, meeting her gaze. His thumb caresses her back. He takes a step closer to make sure their difference in height is made even more evident. His hand leaves her back and comes to rest in one of hers. The affectionate gesture added to the not-so-subtle display of is a clear attempt to make her feel safe. She does. And nothing more than that - but it’s enough to make her question her decision of going to him, because the warmth that stirs inside her is far too comfortable. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

“Thank you.” She gives his hand a light squeeze.

“I just hope you don’t mind being alone tomorrow. It turns out something recently came up. I'll have a few urgent errands to run.”


	3. something else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hannibal and Alana's first silent impressions of each other on the first day of class before they actually exchange words_ , prompted by _thepsycho-in-thepsychopath_

She was that one type of person that caught everybody’s attention for no discernible reason. She was pretty, and her previous grades proved she was smarter than most of her classmates - but there was something else. A something else that got even Hannibal Lecter interested when he first heard about her.

The glimmer ever present on her eyes was that of a curious child - but as mature as she was years older than him. When she by passed him to take her seat in the second row, he noticed how she smelled of flowers but not aggressively so. It was not a perfume, but the natural scent of someone who spent her days surrounded by it.

All about her whispered to him hinting the kind of innocence that people usually lost after their first years of adulthood. And yet, she oozed sensuality and safety.

Hannibal waited for the rest of the students to take their seats with his eyes fixed on her. People rarely got him interested, almost never on such short span of time. He would pay closer attention to Alana Bloom. Just to see if he could name that one thing about her. A challenge, his first in a long time. He wanted to know how long it would last.

(Alana herself had heard all about Hannibal Lecter and his brilliancy. And when she first stepped into his classroom she was skeptical about it. He looked too much like the kind of guy that thought himself too good to speak to you. She didn’t like jumping to conclusions about anyone, but she made a mental note on how he seemed cold and distant at first. Brilliancy, on her opinion, had as much as to do with intelligence as it had to do with using it and he had yet to prove her he could do the later. She would wait and see. It was just another class. Just another teacher.

Or at least it was until the classroom was full and the conversations had died, when he looked directly into her eyes, and smiled - a smile she could tell was just for her, a smiled that have something she couldn’t yet name about it.

“Shall we begin?” He asked.

And right then she knew he wasn’t talking about the class.)


	4. sunburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hannibal and Alana finally have that affair_ , prompted by Anonymous.

She manages to keep her hands still on his arms, but her fingers tingle for the warmth of his skin. There’s a noise stuck on her throat, words that got there by their own volition. She only realizes how true they are when they come out:

“This is wrong… This- this can’t be happening.”

His mouth caresses her neck and he sucks on her skin, and she knows he’s leaving a mark. She can’t let him. She’ll be seeing Will the next day. He’ll ask, she’ll have to answer. But his hands are firm against her frame, gentle pressure that burns red hot and lights her up. Desire coils up inside her. Alana wants to scream.

“You think too much.” He whispers. His voice is silk and honey. She grips his arms tighter.

_You have to stop thinking too much._

“Yes, I do.”

She doesn’t know who she’s answering.

Arms encircle her. He is a solid wall against her fragile state of mind.

“It’s alright.” Fingers on her face, caressing her cheeks, playing with her hair. “Let it go.”

His lips are on hers. It pains her that he’s assertive but not rude - it’s her choice and hers only. He waits for her to part her lips and invite him, and she knows exactly how stupid it is to do it, but she lets him in. Their tongues meet hungrily and Alana claws at his hair and she can’t believe how she can want him so much.

She kisses him until she can’t breath, until she forgets everything that is happening on the world outside. Until her lips are bruised by the force of it. Her own force. He’s as suave and subtle about it as he is about everything else.

She steps back and her body hits his desk. She’s sat on top of it before she can think about it. She doesn’t want to think.

_I'm not your patient, Alana._

She doesn’t want to think about Will.

He hikes up her skirt and she lets him and it burns. She doesn’t know what burns brighter - her pain in knowing she’s actually doing this, or the flames of her own lust.

She just wants it gone.

She breaks the kiss - and because she don’t know how to be anything else, she’s honest:

“Make it go away.”

The already fragile threads dividing the partitions of their relationship, and helping her make sense of it, are then ashes.

“As you wish, Alana.” He kisses the top of her head, and stands between her legs with both his hands caressing her bare thighs. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I was going to post two of them, because it's been a while, and they're too short... By the way, you all should just [click here]() and tell me what you want me to write next.  
> I need to learn how to write, and the only way is writing so _prompt all you want_.


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